


Ghost Town

by odetodameron (Inter_somniac)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inter_somniac/pseuds/odetodameron
Summary: The Mandalorian is at odds with the gods of the galaxy as he struggles with his feelings for his ex-captive, Y/N.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dyn (The Mandalorian) and Y/N crash onto Jakku, injuring Y/N and destroying the Razor Crest. Y/N is taken to a small outpost for medical attention.

You told him they were too close. You told him there was no chance of losing them. But, of course, the idiotic Mandalorian sitting in the pilot’s seat thought _he_ knew better than you. Of course, you were just a little scavenger turned bounty hunter from the Outer Rim. 

As the Razor Crest began to fall you thought back to the last few weeks. The time you’d spent on the run with a fugitive of the Guild and of the Imperial loyalists. Not that you blamed him for running. The Guild were a bunch of liars and cheats. The Imperial loyalists were no better. But Mandalorians were supposed to be the greatest warriors of the galaxy. Not cowards who ran in fear. 

Dyn was desperately searching as the dust settled. This was _his_ fault. You’d told him that you couldn’t lose those ships. The Razor Crest was good, but not that good. His beskar armor had protected him as the ship had crashed onto Jakku. You however didn’t have armor from beskar. You were very susceptible to falling metal and equipment. 

Everything was a bit hazy. You knew the ship had crashed, but you didn’t really know what had happened after you’d hit your head on the roof as you’d hurtled through the atmosphere of Jakku. Blinking, you looked around. It was bright, shattered glass reflecting around you. Most of the cargo hold was still intact. 

You tried to sit up and call out for Mando, but as you moved your stomach turned and your ears rang. However, you croaked out a faint call for the Mandalorian. You didn’t know if he’d faired any better. If the glass down in the cargo hold with you was any indication, probably not. 

Dyn heard a faint noise, then an undeniable groan and thump. You were inside the hulking, smoking pile of metal he used to call a ship. Right now, he could care less about the ship. He had to figure out how to get you the hell out of it. And, stars, that was going to be a challenge. 

You could hear movement near where the windshield should be. Though you were pretty sure the actual windshield was scattered around you. Pushing up on shaking arms, you caught a glimpse into the cockpit. The Mandalorian was trying to push the twisted and mangled stabilizer bar out of the way to get into the ship. 

Dyn caught sight of movement down in the cargo hold. There you were. Battered, covered in small cuts, and it looked like you were completely dazed. In a burst of sudden rage, he ripped the stabilizer bar loose, making enough room for him to slip into the ship. He crunched over the glass, rushing to where you were quickly fading from consciousness.

You were limp in his arms as Dyn carefully maneuvered you out of the ship. With no proper way in or out, it became significantly harder and riskier trying to move you. He’d wrapped you in his cape, trying to help keep some of the dust and sand out of the cuts littering your body. The only sign that you hadn’t completely left him were the rattling and shallow breaths you took. 

Dyn didn’t know how to patch up a head wound. He’d been wearing a helmet for years. One that he only took off on occasion. There was a shallow cut across the back of your head from where it had hit the roof. You were 100% concussed. Dyn didn’t know how close you were to anyone who may know how to help, and it _terrified_ him. 

“Traveler, it appears your ship has been taken down.” 

A man, astride a speeder, sat a few meters from where Dyn hovered over your unmoving form. For all his insistence that he could take care of anything, Dyn couldn’t take care of this. He stood, offering his hands to the man in a show of peace. 

“We were shot down. My companion was injured in the crash. A head wound. Do you know where I can find a medical bay to take her to?” 

“We are near a small outpost. I can take her on this speeder. Much more quickly than you could carry her there.” 

“If she goes I go. She’s not leaving my sight.” 

“Precious bounty, Mandalorian?” This human was pressing his luck with that smug look on his face. If he wasn’t desperate, Dyn would have disintegrated the worthless kriffing idiot then and there. 

“My _partner_ , not my bounty. Don’t test me. I would kill you now if I didn’t need to find her help.” 

“I can...perhaps find a way to take you both. But what can you do for me?” 

“Well you’re implying you need something, so why don’t you tell me.” 

“It’s simple, really. There’s a thief at the outpost. I need it caught. Catch my thief if I take you to the outpost and bring her to a medic.” 

“I’ll catch your thief. Now take us to the outpost. If you’re lying, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Dyn cradled your body, sitting unsteadily on the makeshift sled that had been attached to the speeder. He brushed back the hair around your face, checked that you were still breathing. The man was in _shambles_ with worry. You were something to him that he couldn’t bring himself to admit. Dyn wasn’t ready to accept that this was all really happening. 

If Dyn was being honest, he should’ve known when he rescued you. He’d turned you in as bounty and come right back for you. He was an **idiot** for you. Had been since you’d tried to slash under his arm as he hauled you off the ship when taking you to his client. 

Dyn was about to yell to the man when the whole contraption came to a sudden halt. With a growl, the broad and proud Mandalorian shielded your body from any more damage and shot a glare at the man. 

“Your companion will be in the hands of the best medic on Jakku. We will take her to the medical bay and then you will he briefed on the thief.” 

Dyn really didn’t want to leave you. Especially not when he saw droids bustling around the medical bay. But he had given his word in order to get you in there. So he followed this man into the outpost, scanning the surroundings. This was small but well secured in an emergency. 

“Now for my thieving problem...” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N relives her capture at the hand of The Mandalorian. Meanwhile, Dyn waits for Y/N to wake up.

You’d known he was trouble the second the Mandalorian had walked into the bar you were at on Dathomir. There was just a way about how he so easily sauntered up to you with that stupid tracker beeping out of control. Not to mention when he grabbed you around the waist without so much as a word, and then unceremoniously dragged you out to his ship. 

Not that it had really been _bad_ having the strong arms of a Mandalorian pull you out of a sad little bar on Dathomir. The planet was tiny. Useless. That’s why you’d been trying to find odd jobs as a bounty hunter. However, you’d caused yourself more trouble than good. 

“Hey! What the hell, man, put me me down!” 

“Quit kicking, kid. Makes you harder to carry.” 

You weren’t slight. You’d never been called dainty. But this Mandalorian had no problems carrying you even when you were putting up a fight. So you finally just hung there in his arms as he hauled you off to his ship. 

“You at least going to tell me your name, Mandalorian?” 

“Most people call me Mando.” 

“No, your _name_. I’m pretty sure your name isn’t Mandalorian. I want to know what your parents named you.” 

You were met with silence. He was stubborn. Maybe even more stubborn than you, and that was a hard thing to do. You let out an annoyed huff before stomping into the cargo hold. 

The man’s thief was easy to find. Now Dyn sat next to the bed in the medical bay. Every so often your fingers would flex, and a little spark of hope would light up in his chest. But you were still far from being awake. Your cuts had mostly become scabs. 

“You’re pawning next off as bounty?!” 

“I’m a _bounty hunter_ , kid. You knew what I was from day one.” 

“Stop calling me kid. _You_ came to my home planet. _You_ took me from the life I knew. Now, _you_ get to make money off of kidnapping me?” 

“You had a bounty on your head. I got sent to retrieve you. Now, I’m getting my bounty and you get dropped off.” 

You’d been close to him. So close he didn’t notice you yank a blaster out of the holster on his thigh. He did notice when you shoved it into the space between his helmet and pauldron. He very much noticed the fiery glint in your eyes. 

“You are going to take me back to your ship, and we’re going to leave. Both of us.” 

The Mandalorian chuckled, quickly disarming you and pulling you up to a door and knocking. When the door opened, he let out a surprised choking noise. This was a _brothel_. He hadn’t exactly been expecting to be catching a prostitute. 

Credits exchanged hands and then the Mandalorian was leaving you, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder at you. And then he heard you scream. A patron had grabbed you by the hair and was trying to force you to your knees. 

In seconds, the Mandalorian was ripping the man off of you. The brothel owner tried to protest. The Mandalorian flicked the credits worth the door fee at him before all but dragging you out the front door. 

“You sold me to a whore house!” 

“If I had know that I was taking you there I wouldn’t have taken you to start with. I may be cold but I don’t believe in forced servitude.” 

Dyn watched your breath hitch and your whole body clench. He realized that you were dreaming. He’d never hope to have a chance at guessing what you were dreaming of, but a small part of him hoped it was your short time together. 

You had stayed with the Mandalorian, mostly because he said he wouldn’t force you to return to Dathomir. Sure, he wasn’t the most talkative companion and he got himself into tight situations frequently, but it got you off Dathomir. 

You had expected a cold warrior. You had been to Mandalore a single time, to one of their glass domes. They had seemed like shells, more like machines. If your father hadn’t kept his eye on you the entire time, you were almost sure they would’ve taken you and made you one. But this one was _different_. He wasn’t as rigid and icy. Didn’t have the same overall demeanor as the Mandalorians you’d seen as a child. 

Dyn gently took your scratched hand, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing. Your fingers curled around his hand. It was small. It was so small that Dyn realized it was probably only a coincidence, but his pulse sped up. This was the first time he’d ever really felt your skin. Because this was the only time he’d ever so much as removed even his glove around you. 

Dyn was determined he’d get you some sort of armor. Not beskar, of course. That was reserved for those who took the Mandalorian creed. But he could probably put you in durasteel alloy without a word said. It wouldn’t be as heavy duty and you’d still be much more susceptible to injury than him, but it would help. But first he had to figure out where to get any. He wasn’t sure the Armorer would exactly be thrilled with fitting a regular human girl. 

You were in a lull. Your memory of the Mandalorian capturing you and saving you had faded into inky blackness. But you felt it. You felt _him_. It took every ounce of energy you’d been building up in your state of rest, but you squeezed his hand, feeling rough callouses instead of the normal leather of his gloves. And with that final push, any lucidity you’d had dissipated. 

Dyn could sense the change as you faded back into the blackness. He grunted, standing up and pacing your small room. What was he going to do if he you didn’t come out of this? He knew there were people who just stayed comatose until they died. This was all his fault. Every drop of guilt he could possibly feel washed over him, and he collapsed back into the chair. 


End file.
